


The House on the Corner (Halloween Variation 03)

by Lucifer_Rosemaunt



Series: Halloween series 2014 (meet cutes) [3]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2543894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifer_Rosemaunt/pseuds/Lucifer_Rosemaunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short ficlet variations on a theme: Halloween meet cute. Raoul is susceptible to most dares and has no self-preservation skills. Modern!AU. Erik/Raoul pre-slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The House on the Corner (Halloween Variation 03)

o.o.o.o

Raoul could admit, if only to himself, that he was an idiot sometimes. Surely he was too old to find himself giving in to peer pressure and blatant goading. His sixteenth birthday was in just two more weeks; surely, he was too old. But here he was, making his way through a creepy backyard that was overrun with weeds and dead leaves. Scattered through the large lot were nearly bare trees whose limbs not only tapped ominously against any nearby surface but also shook in a menacing manner that made Raoul rather paranoid. A dilapidated house made up more of vines than wood loomed overhead, blocking out any light from the street lamps.

There were rumours that someone actually lived in the house, but Raoul was not sure how that was possible since no one had ever seen a single person walk into or out of it. The front door _had_ been locked, but that meant very little. He was not going to back down on this dare. The sooner he was inside the house, the sooner he would be able to start the three hours he had negotiated to stay within those walls.

He clutched his flashlight harder when he heard shrieks from children running down the sidewalk that was currently hidden by overgrown hedges. He did a quick scan of the area once more to make sure the additional sounds he heard were truly outside this yard. Somewhere past those hedges, his classmates would be lying in wait to see if he chickened out within the first few minutes. He did not doubt that they would leave shortly after, bored from waiting, either trusting Raoul’s integrity or simply losing complete interest in a dare spoken on a whim. He knew that Buquet, Carlotta, and Piangi would definitely leave. Maybe Christine and Meg would stay a little longer, but not three whole hours.

It came down to Raoul’s honor anyway. He would do this because he had brazenly claimed that he was not afraid of the only house on the block that hadn’t needed to decorate in order to become the most terrifying house during Halloween. If he said he did it, they would believe him. He was not a liar and he would not turn himself into one.

So far, it seemed like the house was indeed abandoned. All of the windows were so dirty you could not see inside and further into the backyard the beam of light from his flashlight had illuminated quite the number of baseballs, footballs, and Frisbees that had been overthrown and abandoned.

He crept onto the back porch and winced as it creaked, straining under his weight. He swept the light across the old wood; it looked stable enough. Tentatively, he reached out to grab the doorknob, holding his breath as he twisted. To his surprise, it opened and instead of the ominous creak he expected, it swung open silently. He was both glad and alarmed by this turn of events. There had been no contingency plan if the door had been locked. He was not about to break a window or something. It would have given him a legitimate excuse not to go inside the building. Now, he had no other recourse but to enter.

He took one step inside the house and froze, flashlight prudently turned off to prevent unwarranted attention. He strained his ears to hear anything, any sign that he should be running despite his previous bravado. Nothing but the wind and distant children’s screams could be heard as well as a steady hum that he could not quite place. He entered further, closing the door behind him lest something follow him inside, and only then did he turn his flashlight back on. The door led to a kitchen and Raoul stood there, confused by what he was seeing.

There were appliances that looked well-maintained and rather new. There was nothing of the dust, cobwebs, and rats that Raoul had expected and he had a sinking feeling that had nothing to do with fear of this house being haunted. The inside of the building was the complete opposite of what it appeared to be on the outside.

He swung his flashlight towards the archway leading to what looked like the living room and he was almost certain he saw an old but not run down couch and arm chair. He cursed under his breath and knew there was only one way to confirm what he was beginning to greatly fear.

He hurried to the refrigerator and the hum grew louder. Grabbing the handle firmly, he paused not quite sure he knew what he wanted to see when he opened it. He swung it open and meager light flooded out from the appliance. Even though it was mostly empty, filled only with bottles of water, soda, and a glass Tupperware, there was no doubt in Raoul’s mind that somehow someone called this place their home.

As he shut the door, the lights overhead flickered on, bathing the room in fluorescent brightness and Raoul started, dropping his flashlight on the floor. And just like in every scary movie he had ever seen, it rolled away from him to stop at the feet of the man who had turned on the light. He looked at the flashlight to the man’s bare feet and up sweatpants and a paint-streaked, white t-shirt to stop at green eyes partially framed by a white, porcelain mask that looked too expensive to be a costume. He did not look like a ghost or a squatter. His face was clean shaven and hair only slightly mussed, but more importantly, the man sneered at him and Raoul backed up until he hit the counter.

“Sir. I- Oh my gosh. I didn’t…”

The man’s lip curled up in disgust. “What are you doing here?”

He stalked forward and Raoul ducked behind his arms because this man was certainly at least a decade older than him, taller and broader, and honestly, Raoul had never been in a fight but he was no stranger to getting hit. When no strike came, he peered between his arms to find the stranger staring at him in something that was thankfully less than the anger that had been there previously.

“I’m sorry.” Raoul kept his arms up. He let out a deep exhale. “I am so sorry.”

“You came here to see the monster?” the man asked, and the silence that followed indicated he expected an answer even though Raoul was not sure what he was talking about.

“It was a dare.” He lowered his arms in time to see disappointment flash through the man’s features before it was smoothed out into a disapproved mien. For some reason, he needed to explain himself, not wanting the man’s disappointment. It reminded him of his father’s and his teachers’ and sometimes, when he was being particularly obtuse, his brother’s disappointment, and he could not let this stranger think so poorly of him, think that he had been dared into breaking the law and sneaking into another person’s home. He was not like that and he could not bear the thought that anyone would think so lowly of him. So, he tried to explain, “We all thought this place was abandoned, although I guess some people said someone lived here. I didn’t believe them or else I _never_ would have tried to come in, but they were all saying how they would have no problems staying in a haunted house. And, I said it too and I’m not sure why but they all didn’t believe me. Even Christine and Meg didn’t, thinking that I was too scared to stay in the house for a couple of hours and I _had_ to say that I could do it. I mean, I’m not supposed to believe in ghosts and I don’t think I do except I think I might. And the outside, you know, the outside kind of gives the impression that no one lives here. And the front door was locked but I walked around and…”

“Stop.” The man held a hand up and Raoul shut his mouth so quickly it closed with a click.

He ducked his head when he could not seem to read what the man was thinking. “Please don’t call the police. I-” His shoulders slumped. “I didn’t know.”

“What’s your name?” the man asked and Raoul gripped the front of his shirt, twisting the fabric between his hands, wondering how he was going to explain to his father that he had been arrested on Halloween. He briefly wondered if Philippe would be disappointed as well.

“Raoul,” he muttered then looked up to say a little more clearly. “Raoul de Chagny.” It was not this man’s fault that he had not known better than to figure a locked door clearly meant do not enter. “Is… is there a place you’d prefer me to wait for the police so that I’m not in your way? I could wait on the porch.”

At the blank look he received in response to his statement, he assured, “I won’t run. I promise.”

“You talk too much,” the man said simply, looking at Raoul from head to toe. “It’s better everyone keeps thinking this place is abandoned.”

Raoul did not think he meant to say the last part loud enough to be heard, but he nodded along anyway.

When the man took a step closer, Raoul struggled not to cringe, but instead of grabbing him, the stranger opened the refrigerator and rustled through the few things inside. “How old are you?” he asked suddenly, the sound mostly muffled by the fact that his head was inside the refrigerator.

“Uh,” Raoul looked at the man’s back then around the room, not quite sure the follow-up question meant that he was going to be safe from being arrested tonight. “I’m fifteen, almost sixteen.”

“Almost sixteen, huh?” the man echoed.

Raoul supplied, “Yeah. In two weeks.”

The man stood up and rested his arm atop the door as he held out a can of soda towards him.

Raoul looked at the can before reaching out to take it. It seemed rude not to.

Despite the kind action, the man said, “You shouldn’t be so stupid at your age” as he shut the refrigerator door.

Raoul clutched the can to himself and frowned. He let the coldness distract him enough that he almost missed the man turning to leave the kitchen. When he was plunged into darkness though, he took an aborted step forward. His flashlight was still on the floor shining at the archway illuminating the man’s back as he walked away.

“Wait,” he called to stop him. “I- Where are you going?”

“Me?” The older man stopped but did not bother turning around. “I’m going back to work.”

“And…?” Raoul prompted, completely confused by this turn of events.

“And you can leave the way you came.” He glanced over his shoulder, adding, “Or you can stay your couple of hours to save face for your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Raoul said defensively, the response pure reflex by this point. “I mean, you’re not going to call the police?”

He took silence to be agreement.

“And you’re even letting me stay?” Raoul paused, making a face. “What if I were a thief?”

“What if I were a mass murderer who killed teenagers stupid enough to break into his house and then invited them to stay?”

There was a heavy pause. The man seemed just as surprised by having said it as Raoul was by his response.

It was a bad joke and both of them knew it. Raoul could barely see the hint of an eye roll he was nearly certain was there. Still, he grinned at the crass answer, hurrying forward to grab the flashlight from the floor. He only briefly wondered if the man’s rhetorical question was in fact a thinly veiled joke hinting at the truth. His gut told him otherwise though and by now, with a cold can of soda in his hand, he was more intrigued than worried.

He did a poor job of stopping himself as he stood up from grabbing the flashlight and bumped into a solid body. “Sorry,” he offered. This close, Raoul could feel himself blushing for some reason.

“What are you doing?” the man asked, taking a step away.

Raoul pouted. “I don’t want to be alone. Your house is scary.” Admittedly, now that he was inside the building, he was less intimidated, but he still did not want to spend time within the house in the dark when there was someone else he could be with. He knew his imagination would get the best of him.

The masked man looked down at him consideringly, and Raoul wondered if he was going to retract his offer of letting him stay in the house.

As though to prove a point, his flashlight flickered then died, casting the room in an alarming deep darkness. Raoul instinctively reached out, accidentally slamming his hand into the man’s side. He both felt and heard the responding sigh. He was going to apologize but was distracted by the warm hand that grabbed his wrist. When the man began to walk away, he panicked, thinking he was going to be left alone in the darkness.

“Please…”

The hand remained a solid connection around his wrist.

“Come on,” the disembodied voice said.

The darkness was no hindrance to the older man as he made his way further into the house. He faltered only the slightest when Raoul turned his hand so that he could hold onto the older man’s wrist, trusting him not to lead him into any walls.

The stranger cleared his throat before continuing down the dark household. “Don’t touch anything in my studio.”

o.o.o.o

End ficlet

A/N: Uh, can I say that I’m almost tempted to continue this fic. But that’s not the point of these variations (sort of). No. I can’t. But let’s just say this is definitely not the last time that Raoul’s going to be visiting him. And why do I want a sixteen year old Raoul celebrating his birthday in a dilapidated old house, surrounded by paintings and Erik’s like… I painted you, but less creepy since Raoul’s just freaking overjoyed since he loves Erik’s art and he spends his afternoons there studying asking Erik questions to the problems he doesn’t know. I. Want. So. Bad.

Fic Review: Does Raoul have any self-preservation instincts? Nope. Not for this story. :D Which is troublesome in Erik’s eyes because he’s like, seriously? This kid is going to get himself killed. Luckily, he’s found him first. XD

hermit!Erik does not give a crap about maintaining his house. It is beneath him. Technically, he _never_ leaves his house; so he kind of doesn’t even know what the outside of it looks like. He makes money with his art (as always) but he has a go-between so that he never has to leave (they usually enter from a back gate that no one really knows about). The people who had once seen him have all either moved on or thought him dead so most people don’t know what’s up with him or the house. Btw, Erik’s about fifteen years older than Raoul here. And Raoul’s actually a huge scaredy-cat because he’s intensely superstitious and can’t help but believe in ghosts and things that go bump in the night. Did you notice that Raoul doesn’t even know his name yet. XD

Also, no self-preservation instinct whatsoever. I mean, strange house, breaking into someone’s home and then willingly following them further into the house? If this were a scary movie, he would be the first one dead.


End file.
